


did i squander my divinity?

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, angst but it gets better, sort of character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: Douglas thinks about the sky, and how he's never truly been in love before.





	did i squander my divinity?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration (and italicized lyrics) from the song Dust and Ashes from the musical 'Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812'

Douglas thinks about the sky. He thinks about flying and the endless stretch of open air and wonders if someday he might be able to traverse it. He is a child and he wonders and he gapes with all the innocence and imagination that time has not yet taken. The sky is endless possibilities and he looks at it and thinks: _adventure_. 

The first time he actually takes to the air, he has to brace himself in the face of the sudden tightness in his chest. It is like the feelings inside him are too big to contain and he might very well burst from the intensity of the emotion, cresting the high of being above everything and everyone, and up here there is nothing in his way. Life had bounced him from one career to another, and his parents may be disappointed, but that mattered so little when he could see for forever. The sky had fascinated him as child, a call for adventure, but now as a young man, he thinks he has tasted freedom.

Then there is a woman and she is beautiful and charming and sly. She smiles like she holds secrets and her eyes glitter with a somewhat calculating light. She is nothing like any woman Douglas has met, and he is drawn to her like a moth to flame. There is happiness for a time, but beauty can twist and slyness can turn malicious, and suddenly Douglas feels like he’s been dragged into the dirt. The sky calls him and he runs to it, not even his first child having enough pull to make him stay. Douglas leaves the earth and the woman behind him and tries to ignore how the taste of freedom has turned bitter.

Life seems to rush by at a blur and Douglas stares at the bottom of a bottle, frowning at the sudden realization that time is slipping from his fingers. He is married again, and it does not turn sour like the last time, doesn’t spiral into failure, but it also doesn’t do much of anything. It had been more of a marriage of convenience, two good friends with benefits, then there was a baby on the way. Both of them happy, but not anything beyond a platonic love for the other. Douglas tries to make it work, tries to pretend that it is as happy and fulfilling as he thinks he should want, and he tries too hard and it crumbles. The alcohol barely manages to cover the bitterness that still coats his tongue, but it manages for a while, but even flying doesn’t erase the perpetual feel of being stuck.

One night, and Douglas’ temper sparks, head too full of thoughts and heart too full of aching. Two marriages, two divorces, two daughters left behind. Glass shatters and alcohol spills and Douglas sits in a heap of rage and sorrow and helplessness and wonders at where exactly his life went so wrong. He paces and throws things, cries and bangs on furniture and screams into the uncaring emptiness of the room. He is alone and broken, and so very very tired, and when he finally collapses into a chair, he finds himself staring out the window. The sky is mesmerizing at twilight, and the colors and light bring him clarity. He sees a jet, passing in the far distance, and thinks of flying, thinks of adventure, of freedom, of escape. He thinks of love. Douglas thought he had been in love before, but he had been proven wrong twice, and he’s only getting older. He sobers, calms, reflects. God, he doesn’t want to die while he’s like this.

MJN is a breath of fresh air that lets him forget his rage and sorrow and all the things he doesn’t want to think about. Not the loneliness, the addiction, or the terrible recklessness that fueled him for the years between his second and third marriages. Carolyn Knapp-Shappey is no-nonsense, stern and sharp, but her wit sparks off of his beautifully, and the first hum of contentment begins to fill him. The second comes when Arthur Shappey bounces in, all light and cheer, and completely genuine. Something here is warm and soothing, and while it doesn’t fix things entirely, it’s a start, and Douglas thinks that that is enough. There is still a quiet whisper of doubt, fed by two failed marriages, that wonders whether he really has fallen in love or not, whether this time he’s found The One, and he crushes it ruthlessly. He has the sky, he has a wife, and now he has these two people who sort of make it better. Surely, it is enough.

=

_They say we are asleep until we fall in love_   
_We are children of dust and ashes_   
_But when we fall in love we wake up_   
_And we are a god and angels weep_   
_But if I die here tonight_   
_I die in my sleep_

=

The sky god thing is a joke, really, but Douglas lets it continue, because some part of him still clings to past glory, to youth and arrogance he could still afford to have. He knows it’s foolish, can see how it would make him look egotistical beyond belief, and he is ready for scoffing or sneering or animosity, like the other captains he’s flown with. But Martin Crieff, beyond a slight roll of his eyes, simply accepts it. Douglas stops himself from blinking in surprise, but can’t help feeling a little bit astonished. Martin, he had assumed, was the exact type to brush Douglas aside, all young and full of himself, head held high and trying to fit into shoes still too big for him. Apparently, Douglas had assumed wrong. He wonders if it’s a one-off thing, something temporary and fleeting, and stays on guard.

But time passes and Martin remains where others had not, a steady, if slightly panicky/nervous/anxious presence, beside him in the flight deck. He was indulgent, attentive, and leaned towards kind in a way that told Douglas that Martin had met enough unkindness in his life to steer away from it, and Douglas gradually relaxed. Martin and Douglas butted heads, but never over anything serious. Martin and Douglas argued, but never maliciously. Martin and Douglas were so different, but they fit together like puzzle pieces. Martin protested and Douglas teased, and they bantered and flew on, and for the first time in a long time, Douglas felt that same sense of freedom. The sky stretched out for forever, painted in hues of red or pink or blue, and where his third wife walked away, MJN remained, solid, welcoming, warm, and wanting him. 

Douglas breathed out, feeling something painful and heavy release inside of him. The sky still called him like always, but now he had had his adventures, he knew what freedom felt like, and he was tired of running. The light of a sunset made the angles of Martin’s face look both soft and strong, strangely alluring, and Douglas thinks about how he’s never truly been in love before. Douglas wondered if he was finally, _finally_ , waking up.

=

_They say we are asleep until we fall in love_   
_And I’m so ready_   
_To wake up now_


End file.
